


Interspecies Relations

by cookiesandscream



Category: Halo (Video Games) & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alien Biology, Alien Cultural Differences, Idiots Navigating Emotional Vulnerability, M/M, Size Difference
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-15
Updated: 2019-02-26
Packaged: 2019-10-28 22:23:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17795855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cookiesandscream/pseuds/cookiesandscream
Summary: Bridging a cultural gap is hard enough when you're the same species. It's even worse when both parties are emotionally stunted and worse still when you keep making a fool out of yourself. Not to mention friends make the worst matchmakers.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote something for Lasky/Chief so I figured my other Halo ship deserved some attention.

Chief felt like a huge idiot, but what else was new. 

He flopped backwards onto the thin mattress claiming to be his bed. It had been an accident, really, and it was all his fault, dumbass that he was. He’d been told interspecies relations were difficult, though he was far from standard as far as his own species’ behavior went. Anyway, he knew it wasn’t easy. That’s why he’d been proud of himself for establishing the tenuous not-quite-friendship he had with the Arbiter. They were both still skittish and unsure, but there was the faint shadow of something under it. It was the blurry impression of a friendship, he thought, something that might one day come into better focus. 

Well fuck that. He’d taken the situation back to square one. He groaned, turned, and slung both legs up onto the mattress with the rest of him. He was out of his armor, though not by choice, just as he had been five minutes ago when he’d bungled their conversation. 

That was the first problem. Being out of his armor made his body feel too light and the sensation of air brushing against the looser clothing he wore now was unfamiliar. It made him feel twitchy. Being without his helmet around most people was equally uncomfortable, and he overthought everything he did with his face. That made him twitchy too.

So when the Arbiter had started to enter the room, Chief had panicked and slammed the door. 

“It’s me,” said the Arbiter, his foot still wedged between the door and its frame. 

“I know,” Chief had responded. Stupid. That was the second problem.

“May I come in?” The question was hesitant, following a few beats of silence between them. Chief stood aside and let the door swing open as a wordless answer. 

The Arbiter had to duck to fit under the doorframe. Chief was suddenly very aware of how small the room was. He took a small step backwards. 

“I know this is a strange thing to ask,” The Arbiter began, “But I thought perhaps we could spend some time together. Outside of what is mandated, that is.” 

“Why? I mean, yes, sure, we can do that.” 

“Because I think we may enjoy each other’s company.” There was a note of amusement in his voice, which sounded strange coming from his intimidating frame, “And because your friend put me up to it. The blue one.” 

“Kelly.” He was going to kill her. “Yeah, alright. We can do that but just, uh, not right now.” 

“Of course,” The Arbiter extended a hand. The motion was awkward, probably something he’d remembered from whatever human behavior he’d picked up. Just as awkwardly, Chief took it, his hand dwarfed by the alien’s. 

And now here he was, cursing himself for existing. The handshake weighed on his mind, the skin-to-skin contact having been unfamiliar but not unwelcome. He could swear his palm still tingled. He rolled over, buried his face in the pillow, and sighed heavily. 

“Spending time together” ended up being a series of sparring matches, because of course it did. When they finally took a break, Chief’s shirt was soaked with sweat and he could feel his face radiating heat. He sat down next to his almost-friend and dumped water into his mouth. 

The Arbiter said nothing, but Chief could feel him staring. He returned the stare, cocking his head.

“What’s up?” He crossed his arms, resting his elbows on his knees. 

“My apologies,” The Arbiter said, apparently pulled from thought, “I was looking at your scars.” 

“Oh,” he rubbed his thumb over one arm. He could feel the slightly raised tissue where scars interrupted normal flesh. “I guess I have a lot of them, yeah.” 

“Are you proud of them?”

“Some of them, I guess,” he shrugged, “I haven’t really given it much thought.” 

This was only half true. He was indeed proud of some of them, but only those he’d earned. The older ones lining his body from the augmentations, however, had never been something worth his pride. They served to remind him that he was different, that had he called a coin toss differently he might have had a normal life, but he wasn’t about to say any of that. 

He was preoccupied anyway. The Arbiter had gingerly brushed a hand along the same path his thumb had taken over the bumpy scars. His face felt hot again and something akin to a fight-or-flight response lit up in his chest. 

“Hey, uh, Arbi-”

“It’s Thel, if we’re to be friends.”

“Right,” he said, “John. I mean, for me. That’s my name.” 

Real fucking smooth. He wished he could smack himself. The Arbiter- Thel- just looked vaguely amused. 

“John, then.” He said. 

“Yeah. I should actually go, but we should, y’know,” God, he felt like an idiot, “Do this again sometime?” 

Thel nodded, giving a small wave with his hand as John stood up. Unfamiliar though he was with making friends, he was pretty sure this couldn’t have gone worse.  
He collapsed back onto his bed, mortified, for the second time in two days. He wished there were some kind of guide to this stuff. If he had instructions or something he could stop making a fool of himself, or maybe-

“You dumbass.” 

He stifled a yelp. Kelly was in the doorway, leaning against one side of the frame. 

“Motherfucker,” he bolted to a sitting position and pointed at her angrily, “I’m supposed to be mad at you!” 

“I figured,” she replied, stepping into the room and sitting next to him. 

“This isn’t helping your case,” he grumbled. She just grinned at him. “Were you spying on me?”

“Supervising,” she said, “I set this up for you and you still fumbled it. Dumbass.” 

“I don’t need your help making friends! I have friends!” 

“You have three friends.”

“That is a perfectly good number.” 

“I’d agree with you,” she said, “But I got tired of watching you two dancing around each other all the time. You’re acting like a kid with a crush.” 

“I am not,” he retorted, “And even if I were it wouldn’t be your business.” 

“Just give it a chance. I think you’d get along with each other.” 

“Fine.”

“And for fuck’s sake, stop running away every time something makes you nervous.” 

He smacked her with the pillow. Not a great counterargument, but it had served them both well since childhood and he wasn’t about to stop now.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As Captain Crunch famously says: Oops! All horny!

“So what about you?”

  
“Hm?”

  
“The scar thing. Got any you’re proud of?”

  
John sat cross-legged on his bed. As much as he hated to admit it, Kelly had been right, and his conversations with Thel had been genuinely enjoyable so far. He hoped he wouldn’t screw it up this time.

  
“Not especially,” Thel responded, “Though I believe some of that is cultural. For us, loss of blood is loss of honor, and a scar is a sign that you’ve failed.”

  
John nodded.

  
“And I will admit, I’ve had some rather dramatic failures,” Thel continued, “Some of which I wear permanently.” He tapped his chest.

“Some of mine can feel like that,” John said, “The ones I got when I fucked something up and got someone killed. I’m not proud of those.”

John ran his fingers over his arm again, feeling the topography of his scars, and took a shaky breath.

  
“There are others I’m not proud of because they’re just stupid,” he continued, smiling now. He pointed to a small nick near his hairline. “I got this one after I rolled out of bed in my sleep and slammed my head into the bedframe and,” extending his hand, “this one’s from when I tried to catch a knife.”

“Tried?”

“Well I’d caught it every time before that one, and Linda’s the one who challenged me in the first place.”

“The four of you have a very strange friendship,” Thel said. His eyes squinted and he drew his mandibles together in what John now knew was a smile. “Though I suppose we do too.”

“Yes, I-” Nerves swarmed in John’s stomach and he felt a cold rush of adrenaline along with them. “I like your company. It just feels different somehow, you know? I may not have many friends but the way I feel with you is,” he paused and took another slow, careful breath, “It’s different.”

“Agreed. At times it feels like something else entirely.”

John kept his eyes fixed forward, but he heard Thel shift beside him. Still, he almost jumped when he felt a hand over his own. It was warm and solid and seemed to light up the nerve endings along his arm.

“So is this the part where we kiss or whatever?” He grinned, trying to sound flippant, but his voice came out small and nervous. Thel looked amused.

“I can see at least one problem with that,” he said, gesturing towards his mouth with his free hand. To John’s relief, Thel was no better at masking his anxiety, banter be damned.

John took Thel’s hand. It dwarfed his own, and he felt--for once in his life--very small. Hesitantly, he brought their hands to his face and pressed his lips against Thel’s palm. The skin was soft, far softer than it looked, and he smelled like leather.

“There’s a solution,” he said. His heart thudded painfully against the walls of his chest. This was a gamble, and if he’d taken a bad bet he’d have to devote the rest of his life to avoiding Thel. He was sure he’d ruined everything.

Instead, Thel smiled at him.

That night, he collapsed into his bed again. But this time, rather than burning with embarrassment, his cheeks hurt from smiling.

 

“What’s so funny?”

“Nothing,” John said, “I’m just guessing this isn’t what diplomats usually mean by ‘interspecies relations.’”

“Probably not,” Thel said, glancing briefly to meet his eyes.

John let his head fall forward against Thel’s chest. He himself was shirtless, the garment discarded somewhere in his tiny room, and Thel traced the scars littering his body with one hand. An odd electric tingle followed the path of his fingers across John’s skin.

“That tickles,” he muttered when the fingers skirted his side.

“Tickles?” Thel cocked his head quizzically.  
“Yeah, it’s a human thing I guess, like,” he thought for a second, “Certain stuff on certain parts of our body makes people laugh or- Gah!” He broke off as Thel squeezed his side just below the ribs.

“I know what it means, actually,” Thel said, amusement clear in his voice.

“I’ve changed my mind. Galactic diplomacy fucking sucks,” he muttered. Thel’s hand skirted his waistband and he nearly jumped out of his skin. “Woah, hey.”

“Sorry.”

“No, no it’s okay, it’s just,” John swallowed hard against the nerves and anticipation clogging his throat in equal measure, “Do you... know what you’re doing?”

“I do,” Thel replied, voice lowered almost to a whisper, “You could say I’ve done my research.”

“Good, because I have no idea.” John let out the breath he’d been holding. His voice had gone quiet as well, and part of him wanted to laugh at the absurdity of whispering when they were the only two in the room. Thel pressed the heel of his palm against the fly of his pants and he shuddered. At some point he’d backed against the wall, which was cold against his overheated skin. They were close enough that he could hear Thel’s strange double heartbeat over the thudding of his own pulse in his ears.

Then he felt Thel fumble with his zipper and slip past it and his knees suddenly felt like jelly. His breathing quickened, coming hard through his nose, his head tipping back to thump against the wall. His hands scrabbled for purchase on Thel’s forearms. Heat coiled deep in his stomach, tightening down until he was unaware of anything but the building sensation in his gut and the cold wall against his back.

By the time he opened his mouth to say something, he’d already crested the precipice inside him, shuddering against the wall until he collapsed red-faced back into reality.

“Shit,” he panted. Thel withdrew his hand, looking all too pleased with himself. John closed his eyes again until his breathing returned to normal. “What about you?”

He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about alien dicks (really, who hadn’t?) but it had always been purely out of curiosity or, sometimes, a joking conversation with friends. Once again, the absurdity of the situation hit him and he almost laughed.

Thel was, to put it lightly, impressive. His laughter died in his throat. It appeared to have been sheathed inside his body, but now stood on display, bluish and tapered and slick-looking.

“I may have to, um,” John swallowed, “Work up to that.”

“Understandably,” Thel said, casual despite the circumstances.

“I could maybe use my mouth?”

“How human of you,” Thel laughed. John must have looked confused, because he answered the unspoken question. “Sangheili do not have especially inviting mouths.”

John, mind conjuring a very unfortunate image, nodded.

“I can’t promise I’ll be any good at it, but hey,” he smiled, “Anything for diplomacy.”

 

Later, he sat on the floor with Kelly, rubbing his sore jaw and dealing cards for the two of them.

“So how’s your burgeoning friendship going?” she asked through a mouthful of the bland, mass-produced food to which they were accustomed.

“Honestly?” he glanced at her, “Not to inflate your ego, but I’d say it’s gone pretty well.”


	3. Chapter 3

Kelly was lurking, and he told her so.

“I am not!” 

“You are lingering in the doorway and trying to look casual. You’re lurking.” 

“Well maybe a little,” she said, waving her hand dismissively, “But that’s not the point. You’re my friend, and now he’s your friend, and since I’ve expertly manufactured your new friendship, I want to see the fruits of my labor. Is that so wrong?” 

“Weren’t you happy spying on me?” 

“You told me not to.”

“Fair point,” he crossed his arms, “Maybe another time.”

“Come onnnnn!” 

“Fine, fine, just not today. I promise.” 

“Deal,” she nodded, pushing off of the door frame on her way out, “Just remember that if you pull this avoidant bullshit again I’ll kick your ass.” 

He believed her. 

“So she wants to meet you,” John said, shifting his weight to a more comfortable position, “Like, actually hang out with you.” 

“Why might that be?” 

“We’re her most recent project. Also, she’s my friend. But more importantly, she wants to see the ‘fruits of her labor’ or something.” He tossed his shirt towards the end of his bed. “I told her she could come along next time.” 

“Not this time?” Thel quipped. 

“Somehow I figured she wouldn’t want to be here for this one.” He brushed his hand over the mark branded into Thel’s chest. It was smoother than the skin around it, almost plasticky to the touch. He pulled Thel’s free hand to his face and pressed his lips to the palm. “I never asked you what you meant by ‘research’ that first time.” 

“Ah,” Thel’s eyes darted away, refusing to meet his own, “It may have been research of a… Recreational nature.” 

“Hah!” John, unfamiliar though he was with that particular kind of “recreation,” understood the gist, “Human-fucker.” 

“Well yes,” Thel said, looking down to where he’d pushed his fingers two knuckles deep into John’s body, “How observant of you.” 

“You know what I mean.” He’d have come up with a snappier reply, but the steady drag inside him was dizzying. His eyes fluttered shut. The feeling was no longer unfamiliar (true to John’s word, they’d been “working up to it” as far as sex went) but still made him feel weak-kneed and boneless. He felt the fingers withdraw to be replaced by something slick and blunt. 

“You’re sure about this,” Thel asked. 

“Yeah,” John pushed his hair back from where it stuck to his forehead. His skin radiated heat and he was sure his face was already bright red. He’d been told his stubbornness and competitive nature were well-suited to his job. This probably wasn’t the intended application, he thought, but it suited him just fine. 

It was different from the fingers, but burned the same way--not unpleasant, almost like stretching a stiff muscle. He buried his teeth in his lower lip and let out a slow breath. The burn ebbed away as he forced himself to relax. He cracked open an eye and propped himself up on his elbows to see, through the haze permeating his thoughts, that Thel was fully seated inside him. The sight sent a bolt of arousal down his spine.

“Are you,” he sounded breathless, “Are you still alright?”

John, falling back again, gave him a shaky thumbs-up. Thel had started moving, slowly but surely, and it sent intermittent sparks through his nervous system. Heat pooled in his stomach. Vaguely, he realized his mouth was open, spilling a stream of cursing and incoherent noise. Normally he’d squash the nonsensical dialogue down, cover his mouth or bite his own hand to keep quiet, but he was overwhelmed and, frankly, preoccupied. He let his hand drift down to touch himself. He swore if he pressed it to his stomach he'd be able to feel it bulge, his body displaced from within. 

“I’m- I don’t-” he panted, his own words sounding far away, “I’m gonna- Fuck” He lapsed back into nonsense. Fuck it. 

Thel replaced his hand with one of his own, using the other to press John’s wrists above his head. Some corner of his mind suggested a joke about letting a former enemy pin him. He was too overstimulated to entertain it. The heat in his stomach tightened and pulled him closer and closer to the edge, spiraling until he finally tipped over it with a stifled shout. His whole body drew tight, his hips moving of their own accord and his hands pulled into fists, riding the sensation out to fall back onto the sheets. His body still twitched sporadically through the aftershocks as Thel chased him over the edge. 

Eventually, he opened his eyes again. He was lying on his back with sweat cooling on his skin. He rolled sideways to face Thel, who pressed their foreheads together fondly. 

John snapped awake to knocking on his door. He must have fallen asleep at some point, he realized, though he had no idea how much time had passed. Blearily, he collected his clothes from the floor and put them on in what he hoped was a convincingly awake and unfucked manner. Thel ruffled his hair on the way out and, upon opening the door, nodded to Kelly as he ducked under the doorframe. She returned it with a wave, then raised her eyebrows at John and stepped into the room. 

“So are you still going to let me talk to your reptilian boyfriend or what?” 

“I don’t think Sangheili are reptiles,” he said, “But yes. And he’s not my boyfriend.” 

“Your shirt is inside-out.” He looked down. It was not only inside-out, but also backwards. Oops. “And your hair is a mess.” 

“My hair is always a mess,” he said, indignant. She crossed her arms.

“Also, if the two of you are a thing, you owe me,” she said. He frowned. She had a point, though he hated to admit it. 

“Fine.” 

“Fine?”

“Fine, yes, we are…” He covered his face with one hand, sighing heavily, “We are maybe kind of a thing.” 

“No shit!” She perked up immediately. “And to think I doubted your social skills.” 

“Hey!” He protested weakly.

“You’re welcome, by the way. How long has it been going on?” She was grinning ear to ear, practically vibrating with excitement.

“A few weeks, maybe?” She paused, counting something on her fingers. 

“Shit, I owe Linda ten bucks.” 

“You were placing bets? What the fuck!” 

“Yeah, yeah, we all knew it was going to happen eventually,” she waved a hand dismissively, “The only people who didn’t were you and the Arbiter.” 

“Isn’t setting us up cheating?”

“Maybe a little, but it didn’t help me win the bet so who cares.” She paused, resting her head on a hand. “Seriously, though, are you happy?” 

He looked back at her. It was nice, he thought, to have someone who’d been through the same things he had, and it was rare he was comfortable sharing physical contact with someone. 

“Yeah,” he said, “I am.” 

“Good,” she smiled, this time warm and genuine instead of the smug, teasing grin she’d worn before. “You deserve to be happy more often.” 

He smiled back. They sat together for a bit, enjoying each other’s company in silence. In the time he’d spent away from Blue Team, he’d forgotten how much he missed them.

“So,” Kelly finally said, “What’s his dick look like?”

“I swear to god.”

He smacked her in the shoulder. Maybe he hadn’t missed everything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no idea whether calling money "bucks" is still a thing in the world of Halo but I also don't know what else they'd bet with.


End file.
